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I’m going to like being so near Melissa and Andrew, who is the most interesting of all my brothers although of course Matthew is very interesting too — we will all have lunch together on Wednesdays at this little restaurant Andrew likes to go to, which will be fun—

I should say also that I’m not a frequent letter writer, so if it should happen that you’d like to keep in touch I won’t be disappointed if you wait months to answer — then too you might not want to write at all, which I would understand. Thank you again—

Sincerely,

Margaret Emerson Summers

JULY 4, 1961

Dear Elizabeth Abbott:

I picked a revolver off a policeman at a parade today. It’s for you.

Yours very truly,

Andrew Carter Emerson

Dear Matthew,

How are you? I’m doing just fine.

I have a job taking care of an old man who I like very much. I’m having a nice summer.

The reason I’m writing is to tell you not to come in August. I’m not angry or anything, I just don’t think there would be any point to it.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth

JULY 11, 1961

Dear Elizabeth,

What do you mean, point? When did you start caring whether things had a point?

I’m coming anyway. This is important. You are the first person outside my family I’ve ever loved and I’m worried you may be the last.

Matthew

Dear Margaret,

Congratulations on your recent marriage which I was very happy to hear about. I’m not much for writing letters but will try to keep in touch.

I know that your family is very nice and I always did like your mother, only I had to start school again. Thank you for writing.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth

JULY 15, 1961

Dear Elizabeth,

I know that my last letter must have sounded rude. I’ve been thinking things over since then. I woke up last night and suddenly I saw this whole situation in a different light — not me being steadfast and patient but just pushing you, backing you against a wall, forcing a visit on you and talking on and on about love when you don’t want to listen. Is that how you see it, too? You’re younger than me. Maybe you’re just not interested in settling down yet. Maybe I was always afraid of that underneath, or I would have called you on the phone or come down there one of these weekends.

You will have to discuss this with me somehow. I don’t know what to think any more.

Mother is back from visiting Mary and Margaret. I don’t know that traveling did her that much good after all. She looks tired. When I went to see her yesterday she was just putting the permanent license plates on the new car. She didn’t have the faintest idea how to go about it. I suppose Dad or Richard always did it before, and then you last March. Anyway she was just circling the car with them, looking at the plates and then the car and then the plates again and holding a little screwdriver in her hand like a pen. I would have given a million dollars to see you coming across the grass with your toolbox. I even thought you would, for a minute. I kept looking for you. Then when I was putting the plates on for her Mother started crying. Without you we are falling apart. The basement has started seeping at the corners. Mother says she wouldn’t even know what to look under in the yellow pages, for a job like that. Elizabeth should be here, she said. She knew the names of things.

I don’t know how to think all this through any more, except to ask if you would mind writing and just telling me if you love me or not, no strings attached. If you don’t want me to come in August, I won’t.

Matthew

Dear Alvareen,

How are you? I’m doing just fine.

I’m writing because I asked Mrs. Emerson to send my drill, but so far she hasn’t. Could you do it, please? The combination one, that sands and grinds and all. It’s on the left-hand side of the workbench. There is a metal case you can put it all into compactly. If you mail it to me you can keep that other five dollars, I bet the postage will come to nearly that anyway. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth

JULY 18, 1961

Dear Elizabeth Abbott:

The bullet will enter your left temple. Although I prefer the heart, for reasons which I am sure you understand.

Yours very truly,

Andrew Carter Emerson

JULY 23, 1961

Dear Elizabeth,

Well I have mailed the drill like you asked. It’s no surprise about Mrs. E. not sending it as I believe she is mad at you, also out of town quite alot. Turning into one of those visiting mothers. She had a fight with Margaret’s new husband who she didn’t hit it off with and came back early. Now she’s off seeing Peter in summer school. Melissa up there is going through some kind of breakup with her boyfriend and always calling on the phone “where is she, you think she’d be home the one time I wanted to talk to her.” Honey I don’t know I tell her. I only come in with my key and dust out these rooms that is seldom used anyway. If I had the strenth I would find me another job. My husband is so bad with the arthritis he just all the time moans and groans. Well the Lord knows what He is doing I suppose. I must close for now as I am not feeling too well myself these days.

Sincerely,

Alvareen

JULY 25, 1961

Dear Elizabeth Abbott:

Now prepare to die.

Yours very truly,

Andrew Carter Emerson

Dear Andrew Carter Emerson:

Lay off the letters, I’m getting tired of them. If I’m not left alone after this I’ll see that you aren’t either, ever again. I’ll fill out your address on all the magazine coupons I come across. I’ll sign you up with the Avon lady and the Tupperware people. I’ll get you listed with every charity and insurance agency and Mormon missionary between here and Canada, I’ll put you down for catalog calls at Sears Roebuck and Montgomery Ward. When they phone you in the dead of night to tell you about their white sales, think of me, Andrew.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Abbott

8

“This is a story about an outlaw,” Elizabeth said. “I got it from the library.”

“Let me see the cover,” said Mr. Cunningham.

She held it up for him — a pulpy book too lightweight for its size, with a picture of a speeding horseman looking over his shoulder. Mr. Cunningham nodded and let his head fall back onto his pillow.